


Puppy Love

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 20:29:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10771848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: John shows up on Mycroft's doorstep with a puppy





	Puppy Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phipiohsum475](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phipiohsum475/gifts).



John stood on Mycroft’s doorstep in the rain. This was a piss-poor idea, but he couldn’t hardly bring the thing home. There wasn’t room and besides, God only knew what Sherlock would feed it.

Mycroft opened the door and looked down at where John’s coat was shifting. “A puppy. Really?”

John pushed inside. “Well, I can hardly take it to Baker Street.”

“True. Let’s see the rapscallion.”

Opening his coat, John pulled out the pup. It was of indeterminate breed, though large paws indicated it had some growing to do. Its ears flopped into it’s face and the stubby tail wagged as it looked up at Mycroft.

At least it was short haired.

The creature yipped at Mycroft. John set it down and it took off running deeper into the house.

“Please tell me it’s at least housebroken?”

“I think so?” John rubbed the back of his neck.

Mycroft looked heavenward and stepped forward, folding John into his arms, despite the damp. “I’m delighted to take it.”

“Thanks. You know I wouldn’t normally do this sort of thing…”

“What was it, staring forlornly at you through a window?”

John chuckled. “Someone was giving away a box of puppies. She was the runt.”

Mycroft kissed the top of his head. “Did she have a name?”

“No. Anything you can think of?”

“Well, I did have an Aunt Beatrice who was an expert at getting what she wanted with just a look; I suspect she’ll be the same.”

John laughed and leaned up to kiss him. “Leave it to you to name a dog Beatrice.”

There was excited yipping from the back of the house. John and Mycroft exchanged a glance and headed back to see what the excitement was. Beatrice was looking out at the garden where some squirrels could be seen, since it had stopped raining.

“At least I have a fenced garden,” said Mycroft, leaning over to open the door for her.

Beatrice took off, nearly tripping over her own paws. They watched the squirrels scatter.

“I’ll get her to the vet, make sure she has her shots and all that. We haven’t had a dog since Sherlock was a boy.”

“I’m sure he’d love it, but there’s just not as much room at Baker Street.” John put his arm around Mycroft’s waist as they watched her run and explore the grass.

“He may end up visiting more, just for the dog,” Mycroft had a small, fond smile.

“You’ve missed having a dog too, haven’t you?” John squeezed his hand.

“Some company is nice, every now and again. I’ll have to hire someone to make sure she gets walked during the day.” He turned and leaned down to kiss John gently.

The dog startled them both by barking just outside the door, apparently wanting back in.

“Ah, pet ownership,” said Mycroft, opening the door. “I’ll go make some calls and get some supplies delivered.”

“Okay. I’ll keep an eye on Beatrice and make sure she doesn’t eat your favorite rug.”

“I do appreciate that.” Mycroft went to the study to make his calls.

**

Later that evening, the three of them were on the sofa. John couldn’t help but smile. Mycroft had dozed off against the arm of the sofa, resting his head on his hand. Beatrice was curled up in his lap (despite Mycroft’s protestations that she shouldn’t be allowed on the furniture), and his other hand rest on her back. It was perhaps the most domestic John had ever seen him. 

Very quietly, he took out his mobile and snapped a picture.

“If you ever show that to anyone I’ll send you to Greenland,” said Mycroft without opening his eyes.

John leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Never. Now come on to bed before you get a crick in your neck.”


End file.
